


Like I'm Livin'

by evansrogerskitten



Category: Dean Winchester - Fandom, Sam Winchester - Fandom, Supernatural, Supernatural AU, demon dean - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Canon Divergence, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Language, NSFW GIF, Oral Sex, Smut, angst appreciation day 2017, death of a character, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-17 22:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11277915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evansrogerskitten/pseuds/evansrogerskitten
Summary: A Supernatural AUTorn between the two men I love- one brother who left me, and the other who saved me. I had a choice to make, and either way three hearts would break.





	Like I'm Livin'

**Author's Note:**

> This is a follow up piece to my fanfic Like I’m Dyin’ I've included the link to this first fic below. 
> 
> This is for Angst Appreciation Day. It's not easy to write angst! Props to those writers that do it all the time. 
> 
> Challenges are:  
> Shred Some Hearts Challenge- based on the song "That's Why They Make Jack Daniels" by Ronnie Dunn. Please listen to the song if you can.  
> Do it like Team Free Will Challenge  
> Kat’s 600 follower challenge- The quote "I'm not supposed to be here. And you know it."
> 
>  
> 
> Update: This story no longer contains images or song lyrics due to someone on AO3 reporting abuse. But the story shall carry on in accordance to AO3's strict rules and regardless of anonymous petty unkindness. No one can stop my love for writing.

**[Read the prequel Like I'm Dyin'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10850127)**

It was impossible to get over the love of my life, especially once he’d became a demon. ‘Lean Mean’ Dean was an extravagant rock and roll star as the headliner at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas. Bright lights, 24 hour parties, and a marquee with his name on it five days a week. He had developed a fandom, mostly women who found his looks as attractive as his sultry voice. There were even groupies and even a Facebook page for him which announced he’d be touring soon with a popular band. Dean had become a vain rockstar with a black heart. Yet I wouldn’t stop trying to bring him home to our small town life that he was happy with six months before. 

No matter how many times I saw this stranger dancing around in my boyfriend’s leather and denim clad body, it broke my heart. But every time I saw him on stage, I couldn’t but help admire him. His hair was longer, the front flopping over to the side, brushing across a perfect eyebrow as his smile curled with each verse. He fed off the crowd’s energy, his hips moving in motion with the rhythm. For a moment the raucous crowd around me seemed to disappear, and my feet were rooted to the ground as I stared up at him.

His body moved purposefully, showing off for the high-pitched screamers in the front row. He loved the attention, the feel of the room breathing with his voice. The deeper he sang, the more the crowd wanted him. Hands swayed in the air and a woman next to me staggered as she almost swooned. I watched him, my face stoic as I dwelled on all of the times I’d try to convince this demon to come home with me.

For months Sam and I had tried to convince Dean. We even tried tricking him once with a late night invite to a hotel room, and a set of silver handcuffs. But this Dean was charming, moody, and violent. He’d busted Sam’s lip open and almost dislocated my shoulder. Sam refused to keep “hunting” him but I couldn’t stop. I’d keep trying to bring Dean home until I couldn’t find him anymore.

Like the last few times I bribed the bouncer with a $50 bill and looked for Dean backstage. As I turned around the corner he was leaning against the wall, but this time one girl was wrapped around his front while another blonde straddling his thigh and sucked kisses along his neck. I gagged when I heard their low moans.

“Hey darlin’.” Dean swiped his thumb across his bottom lip to remove the saliva of groupie #1. He stepped back, setting both girls on their tottering heels.

“Girls, go wait for me in my dressing room.” He instructed them, watching their hips sway as they walked away. He bit his lip and shook his head, then turned to me with a smirk.

“That’s gonna get interesting.” He grinned, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall as he looked me up and down. “You wanna have a little fun with us?”

For a second I considered it, lonely for him until I remember how cruel he’d been the last time I fell for his demonic charm. I sighed and walked closer to him, stopping four feet away.

“Dean, I’m going to keep begging you to come home. Sam and I, we can find a way to make you human again. Please.”

Dean chuckled, raking his long fingers through his hair, which apparently had been professionally highlighted. This really wasn’t my Dean. “I told you when I saw you last. I ain’t coming home ever. This is me now.” He held out his arms, his hips swiveling slightly. “Being a demon is the best I’ve ever been.”

I shook my head. “You’re still a good man. Under this hate, this greed, this...black. You’re good still. And I need you to come home to me.”

Suddenly his demeanor changed and a spark of fear ran down my spine. “I told you. I’m not some small town singer with some hick bar bitch and a lame ass brother. I’m famous now. I don’t want or need you.” His eyes flashed the evil onyx I’d been steeling myself for. 

I took a couple steps back. “At least tell me who did this to you. I can’t live with this.”

Again that evil chuckle crossed his perfect pink lips. The black eyes snapped back to his usual olive ones, and he took a few steps towards me. “I’m never going to tell you that. And I could care less if you live or die.”

Our eyes were locked in a dead stare, a growing smirk on his face as I fought the weakness in my knees. Finally I shook my head defiantly. “I’ll never let you go.”

Dean stood up straight and snarled. “You should. You’re really pathetic.”

The tears I’d been holding in finally fell down my cheeks as he turned and walked away. I watched him, his lithe body framed by the fluorescents in the dark hallway, the wide swagger of his bowlegs and his broad shoulders tight under the black leather. I heard the groupies giggle as he reached the doorway. He paused and put his hand on the frame as he turned and looked back at me.

“Let me go, sweetheart. Time to start livin’.”

And then I never saw him again.

* * *

 Living without Dean felt impossible. When I wasn’t at the bar working, I was at home or the library voraciously reading any books or websites related to demons. Sam was broken too. After months of stress and heartache, Sam’s girlfriend Sarah broke up with him. The pressure was too great on their relationship. And although Sam never admitted it, I think part of him was relieved. Life couldn’t be like the old days- the four of us laughing on the back porch, the brothers singing Bob Seger covers, Sarah and I giggling like teenagers in love for the first time. That was all over. And Sam knew dragging Sarah down with us wasn’t fair.

So then it was just Sam and I. He moved into my house after the breakup, and I was glad he was there. It was nice to talk to someone about mundane things, like avocado prices and the news. He’d wake me after I had nightmares, gently rubbing my back as I told him about the dark water that tried to swallow me up. We were both broken and obsessed with bringing Dean back. But we couldn’t find out how to fix him or ourselves.

Sam came home one Wednesday night to find me curled up on the couch with a bottle of whiskey.

“You’re not working tonight?” He asked, dropping his leather satchel on the kitchen table. He walked into the living room, setting his hands on his hips as he looked down at me.

I shook my head no. “It’s covered. I just wanted to wallow tonight.”

Sam nodded, and then went to the kitchen, returning with two glasses. He sat down on the couch next to me and took the bottle, pouring two fingers for each of us.

“Here.” He offered me the glass. “Cheers to wallowing.”

I scoffed and took a sip of the amber liquid. “Yeah right, cheers.

Sam clinked his glass against mine. **“** You know, that’s why they make Jack Daniels. It ain't gonna make it any better. But, it won't hurt as bad.”

I snorted in agreement and settled back against the cushion, tucking my feet under my legs as Sam’s arm rested behind us on the back of the couch. We watched bad TV for a couple hours, progressively drinking down the bottle of Jack. The alcohol made us both warmer and I found myself using the excuse of removing my sweatshirt so I could press closer to Sam. He didn’t complain, but only encouraged me as his arm dropped further down until it was resting around my shoulders.

The bad movie ended and the room was quieter as the credits ran. I was drunk and I knew Sam had to be too. I was breathing shallowly when I finally looked up at him, my hand dropping to his muscular thigh.

Sam didn’t say a word. But there was a need in his eyes that I recognized. That frightened me. I licked my lower lip, mesmerized by his, before he finally broke the tension, leaned down, and kissed me.

It was a soft kiss, his lips pressed against mine for a few seconds before he pulled away and looked in my eyes for permission. Silently, as to not ruin the moment, his eyes seemed to ask me if this was okay. I paused, wondering if this was okay. Was it morally right? To be kissing Sam, Dean’s brother? Then I remembered morality walked out the back door with black eyes eight months before. I nodded slightly and leaned up towards him, my hand wrapping around the back of his neck as we kissed again.

That deep kiss made me moan. Sam’s arms tightened around me as he pulled me closer, our lips and tongues moving in symphony as we desperately breathed in and out through our noses, our mouths opening wider as our tongues explored.  

All of our sorrow and pain was subdued, invisible barriers falling to allow our vulnerabilities. I straddled his thighs, tugging his blue polo shirt over his broad shoulders, pulling his head back to mine once the fabric was removed. Sam pulled my t-shirt over my head, and then grasped my hips, dropping me back onto the couch so he could loom over me.

I smiled as I looked up at his glimmering hazel eyes and messy chestnut hair. He really was beautiful. And this should’ve been strange but it was good. We both craved this without ever admitting it before. Sam rolled down my leggings and then removed his own jeans and boxers. He noticed my smile and stopped, his lips paused over mine.

“What?” He whispered, a sly smile tugging the corner of his mouth.

I bit my lip as I shook my head. “I’m just glad.”

Sam nodded and then took a deep breath before he leaned down and captured my mouth with his. I wrapped my legs around his waist, whimpering against his lips as I felt his hard cock pressing against my thigh. His fingers trailed from my neck to my breasts, circling closer and kneading harder as he found the parts of my body that made me react. His face left mine and I groaned as he touched me, my eyes staring up at the cathedral ceiling as the alcohol buzz allowed me to let go for a little while. His mouth followed the trail his fingers had. My neck, collarbone, the plump flesh of my breasts, then to my nipples where his tongue and teeth made me cry out.

I rolled my hips underneath him, causing him to smirk as his tongue moved down my body, open mouth kisses across my stomach and then my hips. He moved further back down the couch as he watched me react to his fingers first. Softly his hands moved up and down my thighs, his fingers moving to smooth across my folds before gently opening me up. I groaned loudly as his tongue flicked across my clit, my hips moving under his hands as he pressed them into the couch. Each lick and kiss was deliberate and slow, making me whine and moan until finally the words burst out of me.

“Sam! I need you.”

He groaned in agreement, his tongue lathing across my entrance as his fingers circled my clit. Sam smiled against me, moving one finger and then two inside as his tongue finally returned to my needy clit.

“Oh god.” I moaned, my head falling further back on the couch cushion. My pussy was clenching tightly over his fingers, and a sacred orgasm was so close. Sam hummed against my clit as he sucked harder, and my hands tightened in his hair. He didn’t let up, his tongue sliding across my pussy again and again before returning to suck on my clit. A few more curving thrusts with his fingers and I was gone, coming all over Sam’s face as he groaned with the wave of my body. His tongue gently crossed my skin, moving away from my clit when I gasped at the sensitivity.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He said quietly as he sat up, pulling my legs around his waist.

“Really?” I asked breathlessly. “Even before?”

“Always.” He replied, slowly sinking inside me.  

He paused before moving, letting me get used to his ample size before he moved in and out once, his eyes on mine. I nodded, leaning up to kiss him as my arms wrapped around his neck. It’d been so long since I was with someone and this felt so natural. With each thrust we were shuddering against each other, our bodies tightening and pulling, Sam’s cock dragging along my g-spot with each move. Another orgasm was building in my core and I tightened my legs around his waist.

Sam groaned as he felt the tension build in my body, the spark inside me relaying back from his. I clenched my pussy around him, Sam’s fingers moving between us to press against my sensitive clit. One more deep thrust and I was coming, a moan of his name as I let go, the silvery lights blinking behind my eyes as the orgasm raced through every nerve in my body.

With a loud groan Sam let go too, fucking me hard twice more as he spilled inside me. His arms gave out and his chest fell onto mine, our arms still wrapped tight around each other. We slowly caught our breath, my fingertips running across his dewy back. Sam pushed himself up by his hands and looked down at me, our bodies still connected.

“You okay?” He asked, slowly pulling out and then offering me his boxers to clean up.

“I’m better than okay, Sam.” I smiled, brushing a piece of hair behind his ear. “That’s the best thing that’s happened to me in awhile.”

He easily lifted me so he could slide onto the couch, pulling my back against his chest with a content sigh. “Me too.”

When I woke up in the morning I smiled as I remembered the night before. We knew each other so well, especially in the last few months. Somehow our grief had created some kind of love between us.

Sam was in sweaty running clothes when I wandered into the kitchen.

“Morning.” I said, going directly to the waiting coffee pot. “You already went running?’

Sam nodded, unable to hide his grin. “Yeah. I haven't felt this great in a while.”

I smiled, hiding my face behind my coffee cup. “What’re you making?”

Bowls and measuring cups were scattered all over the kitchen island, while the griddle behind him sizzled. “Thought I’d make breakfast for you. I think you still eat that kind of thing.”

I laughed, the sound bouncing around the bright room. I walked closer to him and leaned up on my tiptoes to kiss him. “Breakfast is always good.”

Sam kissed me back; he tasted like coffee and strawberries. “It’s nice to hear you laugh.” Sam smiled as I wiped a drop of batter off his cheek. “You always had a great laugh.”

And then life had a new normal.

Sam continued teaching history at the high school, and I found a new group of musicians to play at the bar, making them promise they’d never play Bob Seger. We kept busy and kept living. Late one night after a couple beers Sam finally picked up his guitar and started playing again, the dim living room offering him enough privacy and solace as he worked through his grief with music. We were still the best friends like we were before, except now we were having amazing sex. And even though there was something more, we never talked about it. The past was the past and Dean was gone. And I was finally laughing again.

* * *

 ****A few months later I was closing the bar early. I was tired and if I wasn't making money it was time to close up. I wanted to go home, make some food, and curl up on the couch with Sam. I was annoyed when I heard the squeak of hinges as someone opened the big barn door.

“We’re closed.” I hollered, focused on counting the money sitting on the counter.

“Hey sweetheart.”

My hands gripped the edge of the bar to keep from falling down. Tiny pinpricks of fear stabbed my forearms and then my shoulders, a panic I was unprepared for rendering me silent. I wavered in fight or flight mode, unprepared for the demon behind me. My heart raced as I looked around for a weapon. I noticed the baseball bat I kept under the bar for drunken brawls. I grabbed it and turned, holding it in front of me defensively.

But as soon as I saw him, I knew it was my Dean. The Dean I loved, the one who kissed me endlessly, who sang folk songs to me, and who made me slow dance under the stars. My Dean, his true green eyes soft and ashamed as he slowly stepped closer. 

“It’s me.” He nodded, that sweet voice that I’d craved for close to a year. “I’m me again.

“What the hell.” I whispered, backing away slowly as he came closer.

Dean put his hands up in the air. “I don’t want to scare you. I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Yeah that’s the exact same thing you would’ve said when you were that...that demon!” My voice was hoarse as I fought back all of the betrayal I still felt.

“I’m sorry about what I said, what I did. That wasn’t me.” Dean shook his head, a lone tear spilling down his cheek. “I’m sorry. I could see what he- what I- was doing. I'm so sorry."  

The agony on his face made tears spring to my eyes. Dean moved closer, until his hands rested on my forearms, my lip trembling as I realized he'd known all along what he'd done. "I can't tell you how sorry I am.”

I shook my head, a choked sob leaving my chest. “Is it really you? How can I know?”

Dean nodded, looking around the bar until he saw the silver letter opener my grandfather had given me. I took a step back as he picked it up, not worried he’d stab me but more concerned of what he was going to do to himself. He ran the sharp edge of the blade along his forearm, creating a small strip of blood.  

“Demons burn when silver touches their skin. And then they heal automatically.” He dropped the blade on the counter, and then offered me his arm. Nothing was happening to it except the blood slowly seeping onto his freckled skin.

I nodded. “Sam and I read that. I didn’t know if really worked though.”

“It would’ve. But I’m human now.” Dean confirmed, placing a napkin on his cut before wrapping a clean bar rag around it. “It’s me.”

The baseball bat fell to the ground with a loud thud as I threw my arms around his shoulders. His lips met mine with a groan as he held me tighter, lost together in a deep kiss until we pulled away panting. I dropped my head, Dean's lips resting on my forehead.

“I've waited so long for this.” I whispered. “I never thought you’d...you’d be you again.”

Dean shook his head, heavy tears threatening to spill from his eyes, his anguish clear amongst the green glass color. “I'll apologize to you for the rest of our lives. Just give me one more chance.”

Tears were streaming down my cheeks as his lips found mine, the months of grief and confusion crashing into this deep love I still felt. I wanted to hit him, punch him, scream for all we had lost. But my Dean was back; his arms were around me, his soft lips on mine. And I couldn't think of anything else.

I pulled away with a whimper and took his hand, leading him to the empty pool table. I needed to feel the weight of this man against me again. I lifted my hips onto the green felt, my legs opening around his thighs. “I missed you so much.”

Dean smiled, that smile I craved for what felt like a thousand years. “I love you. I don't want to hurt you again.”

“Then do the opposite.” I said, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer. He peeled my tank top over my head. I turned on my side as his fingers reached to slowly unlace the ribbon of the bralet I was wearing. His fingers paused over the ribbon, a smirk matching mine as we both remembered the first time I’d worn it with matching panties and satin restraints. I giggled too, a flash of that memory comforting now. I hadn't forgotten. It was the best night of my life. With each tug of ribbon his fingers brushed against my back, and I felt goosebumps across my skin.

From there we were manic, stripping our discarded clothes to the ground. I was pushing my jeans off as his fingers undid buttons, both of us naked on the pool table when he finally pushed inside me.

“Fuck.” I moaned, biting down onto the skin of his shoulder. Dean moved his hips against mine, both of us watching as his dick slid inside me, awestruck as if it hadn't happened hundreds of times before.

Dean groaned against my shoulder, the sound desperate and lost. I tugged on his hair, pulling his face to mine. This was everything broken and missing in almost a year tumbling into an orgasm I couldn't find the beginning or end of. Suddenly Sam appeared into my mind. But I couldn't stop moving with Dean. I needed this. A release I couldn't stop, a grief I may never come back from.

Dean groaned loudly and reached between us, pressing a finger on either side of my clit, remembering the direct pressure I needed to come. And I did, tumbling into an amazing bliss as my walls clenched desperately around him, asking him to follow me to his inevitable end.

“Love you.” Dean whispered and then gave in, his body shuddering against mine.

He swayed unsteadily for a moment, both of us catching our breath between kisses. Dean pulled away, his lips meeting mine is a kiss that sent a new ray of sparks through my body. I sighed deeply, my soul content now that he was back.

“Let's go home.” I said as we dressed.

“You still have the house?” Dean asked happily as he pulled on his boots.

“Yeah.” I responded, turning away as I remembered Sam would be at home.

When we walked in Sam was grading papers at the kitchen table, books stacked around him as he waited up for me.

“Hey,” Sam said gently before turning in his chair. “How was…” 

Within seconds he was out of his seat, his chair ricocheting off the kitchen island as he yanked me behind him. Sam looked from the silver cutlery and then back to Dean, determined to kill a demon if need be.

“Sam, no. It’s okay. It’s him.” I tugged his arm down, his fists still clenched at his sides.

“Hiya Sammy.” Dean smiled hesitantly, looking up at his brother and waiting for his reaction.

Sam turned to me and I nodded. “It’s really him.”

A strangled cough of grief left Sam’s chest as he stepped forward and grabbed his older brother into his arms for a tight hug. No words were spoken, just a fierce hug between them. After half a minute, they turned away, both nonchalantly brushing tears from their eyes.

“Where’s Sarah?” Dean asked, shrugging off his jacket and placing it on the same hook in the kitchen like he always used to do.

“Ummm…” Sam looked to me, and then back at Dean. I opened my mouth to explain but didn’t know how to. I shook my head and looked back up at Sam.

“Sarah and I…” Sam scratched his neck nervously. “We broke up. Few months back.”

“Oh.” Dean replied, looking down at the linoleum. “I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry for everything. For hurting you both. For Sarah. For...everything.” Dean was looking at me as he apologized, a struggle of pain and relief in his eyes that made me want to sob for hours. He’d say he was sorry as many times and as long as it took for us to forgive him. And even then, I knew Dean would never forgive himself.  

Sam shrugged, unsure what else to do. “We’ve adapted. I never thought we’d see you again.”

I shifted uncomfortably as Sam wrapped his arm around me. I raised my eyebrows as I looked up at him and then he realized. Dean being back changed things between us. Complicated things.  

I backed away slowly. “I’m going to go take a shower. Ummm...don’t kill each other until I get back.”

Once I was alone I started to cry, the bathroom filled with the echo of my broken sobs. I scrubbed my hair vigorously; nostalgically washing Dean’s kisses from my skin, as I moved the loofah down my legs like Sam had done in the shower that morning.

My crying subsided and I dressed in pajama pants and a sweatshirt, the fabric comfortable but also loose as if it could protect me. I held onto the rail of the stairs as I crept down to the kitchen, holding my breath as I expected to turn the corner and see one or both of them lying bloody on the floor.

But they were sitting at the kitchen table across from each other, a bottle of Jack Daniels between them. I ducked back around the corner, my heart beating wildly as I eavesdropped.

“I can’t say I blame you.” Dean’s voice broke the silence, fresh grief drowning his words. “I guess I should be glad you took care of her.”

“Dean,” Sam sighed, clearly frustrated. “We thought you were gone. You told her you never wanted to see her again. You hurt her. I couldn’t…” Sam sat back in frustration. “We thought you were dead.”

Dean nodded, downing the whiskey from his glass. “I know. I’ve said I’m sorry and I’ll keep saying it. But I didn’t want that, Sam. I wanted to stay with her, make her my wife, have a family, run our businesses, and die old together. But now…”

“Now I’m in the way.” Sam nodded and twirled the whiskey around in his glass. “But Dean, I have to be honest with you. I want those things too. I’m in love with her too.”

I clasped my hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. I knew Sam was in love with me, but we never talked about it. A declaration meant we couldn’t go back from it, and we’d both lost too much to lose each other. My head hit the drywall behind me as I scrunched my eyes together, tears burning behind my eyelids as the muscles in my face stiffened to keep my returning sobs at bay.

I took a deep breath and turned again. Dean reached his hand out for the bottle. “Well Sammy, that’s why they make Jack Daniels. It ain't gonna make it any better. But, it won't hurt as bad.”

Sam nodded, a small smile on his face as he slid his glass towards Dean. “Well, then we better drink up.”

That night I slept by myself. Dean offered to go stay at a hotel, but Sam and I agreed that was unnecessary. Dean took the couch while Sam slept in the guest room, both of them exhausted, buzzed, and fast asleep as soon as I turned out the lights. I on the other hand lay awake until 5:00AM, tossing and turning as I watched the clock on my cell phone tick later and later. When I finally did sleep, it was fitful, a terrifying dream of the world breaking in half as I fell into the deep, dark water before I woke.

* * *

Their quiet hum of their voices downstairs gradually dragged me out of my dream haze. For a moment I closed my eyes again, hoping it’d all been a terrible, crazy nightmare. I turned to look at my phone. No. 9:00AM.

After shuffling into slippers and a sweatshirt I went down to the living room to find the two loves of my life laughing with their guitars resting on their knees. Dean’s clear beautiful voice filled the room and I remembered the old days. The strangeness made me smile, seeing the two of them still in their sleep clothes, singing as they played “Simple Man”, the room content as if the last year of our lives never happened.  

Sam looked up with a smile. “Good morning.”

“Hi.” I responded, walking closer to set my hand on his shoulder, the touch automatically comforting me. “Did you...sleep okay?”

They both nodded, my appearance making the room suddenly awkward.

“Did you?” Dean asked cautiously, leaning back on the couch as if he shouldn’t intrude on Sam’s and my intimacy. It was as if my appearance in the room had awoken his guilt, and he looked down in shame.

“No.” I responded, which made all three of us laugh. The room was silent for a minute until I took a deep breath. “Well, what do we do now?”

“We keep living, sweetheart.” Dean smiled. Sam nodded, and then played a chord. I settled onto the couch and listened to them play like they’d never missed a beat.

But I couldn’t live until I knew what did this to Dean. I was slowly growing obsessed with finding out, but I kept my research to myself. The tension was building in the house. Sam hated sleeping in the guest room, and I knew Dean wanted to be with me again. I found myself torn between the two of them, and I wouldn’t let myself choose until I found a way to cope with my anger and fear.

The hardest times for me would be the reruns of complete devastation in Dean's eyes. No matter how many times I told him I forgave him, the guilt still weighed on his back like a pack of bricks he'd never drop.

One night he was moping at the bar as I closed up. We hadn't been physical since the first night he'd been home, not more than an occasional kiss or a lingering touch. Dean wasn't going to push the boundaries and I didn't know what those boundaries were.

I took the empty beer bottle from him and reached out for his cheek.

"Look at me." I said softly, as if I was convincing a lost puppy. "We can't keep doing this."

"What?" He asked, the heavy layers of guilt still obvious.

"This...heartbreak hotel bullshit. You didn't do this on purpose, Dean. It happened to you. If anything you should be angry." I replied, wiping down the glossy wood of the bar top.

Dean's hand reached out and grabbed my arm, the damp rag under my palm sliding to a halt. "I'll never get over hurting you. And Sam."

I walked around the bar and stood in front of Dean as his stool swiveled to meet me.

"Dean, I've forgiven you. So has Sam." I stepped between his open knees and placed my hands on his chest. "You have to forgive yourself."

 Dean smirked. "I've never been good at that."

I smiled and moved my hands to his shoulders, allowing him to rest his hands on my hips. "No, you're terrible at it."

He smiled genuinely and looked down at my lips, and then back to my eyes. I took in a deep shaky breath. Every time I kissed one of the brothers, I felt like I was cheating on the other.

Dean saw my hesitation and let his hands drop. I smiled, looking into those pools of emerald that I'd stared into so many times before. I nodded my head slightly, giving Dean permission which he gratefully accepted.

His mouth crushed against mine and I moaned quietly as his tongue slipped across my open lips. His arms pulled me tighter until I was pressed against him, my knees bumping up against the frame of the bar stool.

I was breathless when I leaned away. "I need to close up so we can go home."

"Home. Right." Dean muttered. "I really am glad you kept the house."

I smiled, throwing the trash bag out the back door and tucking the day's earnings into a bank deposit bag. "It's our house. And keeping it...it reminded me of you. And the old days."

Dean nodded, a genuine smile on his face. "Remember that night the four of us played poker for like five hours, and you ended up winning the whole pot? Sam was so pissed. 

I nodded, suddenly nervously at the mention of his brother's name. "Yeah, that was a lot of fun."

Dean's smile faded. "Yeah."

"Come on. Let's go home."  

* * *

 For weeks I was torn between the brothers. I was hopelessly in love with them both, for different reasons, yet I couldn’t bring myself to choose. So instead I obsessed over the demon that did this.

Finally I knew I had to discuss my plan. Sam and Dean were watching TV when I walked into the room.

“Dean, I want to find whoever did this. And I want to kill it.” I announced.

Dean shook his head vehemently. “No. We’re not doing that.”

I glanced at Sam, whose decision seemed to be wavering between the two of us. “Sam, we’ve talked about this for months. We have to do this. I won’t rest until we kill what took Dean from us.”

Dean stood up suddenly, his hands running through his short hair as he stalked back and forth across the living room. His voice was deep and angry, the weight of remorse on his back like a pack of bricks he'd never drop. “No. You don’t know Alastair. He’ll kill both of you and then turn me again. And I’d rather die now than let that happen.”

I stared at Sam, begging him to agree with me. He shook his head. “We shouldn’t, baby.” Dean winced at Sam’s endearment for me. “We should just accept that Dean’s back.”

“No Sam!” I yelled, turning away and waving my hands angrily. “We were gonna do this! We were going to kill it. Whatever took my…” When I looked back at the two of them my heart sank. The pure love on their faces almost made me sick. My eyes filled with tears again and I shook my head, running back down the hallway and up the stairs before they could hear my cries.

But I didn’t stop. Neither of them would discuss it again, but I didn’t care. This Alastair had ruined our lives. And as Sam and Dean awkwardly shuffled around our house, I knew I couldn’t decide between either of them until this darkness had been lifted. While Sam was at school teaching and Dean was at his new job at the tire shop, I searched everywhere for information. Until finally I came across a woman who said she knew Alastair.

I met her at a bar far out of town. She was gorgeous with long dark hair and golden skin. Called herself Ruby. She agreed to tell me where Alastair was for a price. If she told me where he was, all I had to do was give her my soul. I’d get ten years with Sam or Dean, and she’d tell me how and where to kill Alastair. It took a few whiskeys and a few arousing whispers from this demon goddess, but finally I agreed.

“Yes.”

“Oh princess, I hoped you’d say that.” Ruby purred, pulling me towards her for a deep intoxicating kiss.  

She told me exactly what I needed to know and gave me the weapon to do it, as long as I promised to return it. I left the bar ready to kill the bastard that had stolen my life from me.

When I got back to the house Sam was reading in the living room and Dean was in the shower. Sam and I rarely had moments alone together anymore, and I automatically snuggled up against him.

“What’s up?” He asked gently. Both Sam and Dean had been concerned daily about my behavior, but for a moment I just needed the warm comfort that was Sam.

“I found out.” I whispered, my ear tucked against his chest as I listened to his heartbeat.

“Found out what?” Sam placed a soft kiss on my forehead, and I closed my eyes for a moment.

“How to find the demon and kill it.”

“What?” Sam asked angrily, gripping my upper arms and pulling me forward. “We told you to lay off that.”

“I didn’t!” I replied angrily. “And I’m going to find him and kill him.”

Dean was at the doorway, his hair damp and disheveled. “What did you do?”

I looked up at him and swallowed around the lump of grief in my throat. “I’m sorry. I had to.”

Sam’s hands grabbed my forearms and pulled me towards him. “What does he mean, baby?”

Dean was shaking his head, yelling angrily as his hands clenched in fists that threatened the wall. “Do you have any fucking idea what you did?” 

I leapt to my feet and yelled back. “I had to, Dean! I have to make this right.”

Sam was looking back and forth wildly as he tried to catch up. “What the hell is going on?”

“She sold her soul, Sam. Ten years. Then she goes to hell.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “What? Why the fuck would you be so stupid?”

I shook my head. “I have to fix this. And I’ll have ten years with you. One of you. Both of you. I don’t know!” I screamed, leaping off the couch. “I’m going to the bar.”

I slammed the door behind me, the enormity of my decision hitting me with every mile I drove away.

The next night I came home and they were both waiting for me in the kitchen. I dropped my bag on the counter and turned to them, my arms crossed defensively.

“What?”

Sam looked hopelessly to Dean and then back to me. “We’ve been talking about it, and since you made that horrible…”

“Dumbass, bullshit, fucking awful decision!” Dean interjected angrily.

“Yeah, since you made that awful decision, we’re going to save you. We’ll go with you to kill the demon, and then we’ll get you out of your deal.”

I shook my head. “I made the deal, I’ll pay my debt. I’m going to kill Alastair tomorrow. Whether you want me to or not.”

Dean shook his head. “This is so fucking stupid. We shouldn’t go.”

Sam ignored him, reaching his hand out for mine. “I think this is stupid too. But you’ve already agreed. So we’ll go kill both of these monsters.”

Dean slammed his hand on the table. “No! First, we find the fucking bitch that made the deal and we kill her. And then we all three walk away.”

I didn’t look up at him, my eyes speaking volumes to Sam. “Tomorrow.”

I knew tomorrow would seal our fates and I also knew I’d have to decide which brother I loved the most. Which one I’d live with for the next ten years. And which one I’d break.

* * *

The house where Ruby had told me to be was dark and covered in cobwebs, doors hanging from their hinges as old sheets covered decade-old furniture. Squatters had clearly moved in although the house seemed empty except for lights at the front of the house. I clutched the special demon killing knife in my hand, shrugging off Dean even though he and Sam had tried to take the engraved blade from me a hundred times.

Jovial voices carried through the kitchen as I crept through the mess. As I peeked around the corner I couldn’t stop Dean as he walked into full view.

“Stop!” I hissed at him, leaning flat against the wall like I had any idea what it was like to be in combat.

“Dean, Dean, Dean…” The white-eyed demon announced proudly. “Turned from demonkind, I see. And looking fit!”

 **“I’m not supposed to be here. And you know it.”** Dean held his ground, his body defensive and his hands clenched at his side. His eyes narrowed as he growled at the demon. “Let her out of her deal.”

“Oh who, your girlfriend? I can smell her in the kitchen there. You know, she’s quite terrible at this.” He mocked with a nasty smirk.

I knew Sam was coming in from the back, and I debated if I should wait. Considering Alastair already knew I was there, I walked around the corner, the blade held in front of me with both hands.

“Ah there you are, darling. Come join us.” Alastair purred. His eyes sent chills down my spine as he flicked them from the glassy white to bright blue. “Lovely weapon you have there. I see Ruby has moved past her crossroads game.”

“You did this.” I growled, attempting to sound as scary as I could. “You broke us.” 

Alastair chuckled. “Who Dean? Ahh, yes. He was a wonderful hunter. Brought me some great sacrifices. Unfortunately he was turned back, but I’m happy to make him a demon again if you’d like?”

Dean screamed as Alastair’s invisible grip dragged him forward. My stance faltered and then I walked closer. “You already have me in ten years. Just let him go.” 

Alastair clucked his tongue. “Oh girl, I know you won’t let this go. That’s why we’ll have to do this quick and clean.”

It all happened so fast. As my own hands swung down and stabbed me in the side, my high pitched scream of pain filled the broken house. The knife flew away and clattered across the floor. As my knees gave out I saw a blur run through the room, Ruby grabbing the knife and stabbing it into Alastair’s chest, the demon burning as Dean had said they did. Released from his grip Dean fell towards me, Sam hurtling around the corner as he avoided the other demons that were fighting Ruby.

I pressed my hand against the warm blood oozing from my stomach as I realized this was bad. Holy fuck, this was really bad.

“Oh god, no.” Dean yelled, his hands covering mine to press over my wound. “Please, no.”

I started to shiver and tears flooded down my face. Sam’s arms tightened around me as he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“We’re gonna get you out of here, baby. It’s going to be okay.” Sam reassured me, saying the words for all three of us needed even though we knew it was too late.

“No. Sam.” I muttered, finding it difficult to move my lips. “I’m gonna stay here. With both of you.”

Dean sobbed into my shoulder, begging me to stay strong. “Please.”

He looked up at Ruby and yelled. “Please, do something! I’ll give you anything.”

Ruby didn’t move a muscle. She couldn't do anything. The deal was made. Sam’s arms tightened and then began to shake around me as he whispered short prayers, begging me to stay.

“Sweetheart, don't leave me!” Dean demanded, determined as he took my face between his hands before it went slack. “Oh god, no. Please don’t.”

I couldn’t shake my head this time, dizzy spots bursting on the edges of my vision as darkness approached. I was able to look at Sam, meeting his beautiful hazel eyes that shined like gems. Then back to Dean’s green eyes, deep olive like the first time I saw him. A choking cough gurgled in my chest once as my neck went limp and my head fell over into Dean’s palm.

“I love you.” 

And then I was gone.

* * *

After many unsuccessful attempts at resuscitating me, Sam leapt to his feet after Ruby. He had his hands around her throat before she vanished. With a shaky sob Sam looked down to see Dean weeping over the girl they loved.

They didn't know what to do. Call 911 and say a demon had killed their girlfriend? Bury her in the yard? They called their Uncle Bobby. They’d have to cremate me. Bobby’s Christianity told them so.

So they wrapped me in their coats-my arms in Sam’s, my legs in Dean’s. Both men were numb, carrying my ruined body to the car. They set me in the back of the blue Impala and drove home, numb from the shock and agony. Dean was enraged as he resolved to kill that Ruby bitch, his knuckles white as he clenched the steering wheel tighter and tighter. Sam fought back tears as it took all of his strength to not turn around and check if I was really dead.

When they got to the house neither of them could go in. Dean got out of the car and went to the trunk, pulling a bottle of whiskey out of the storage compartment. Sam leaned against the side of the Impala, looking up at the stars as if I was waiting there.  

Dean lifted the bottle to the night sky, “Cheers, sweetheart.”

He hissed as the bitter fire flowed down his throat and then handed the bottle to Sam.

Sam took the bottle without meeting Dean’s eyes. His shoulders shook with the sobs he was fighting to hold in. “Cheers baby.”

In silence they watched the stars and drank down that bottle of whiskey, not a word spoken as their broken hearts were numbed by grief and Jack Daniels. It wasn’t gonna make it any better , and it’d always hurt as bad. **  
**

**Author's Note:**

> Property of evansrogerskitten. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post.


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